


The Tuxedo Situation

by butterflycell



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: 2x06, Car Sex, M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-02
Updated: 2012-08-02
Packaged: 2017-11-11 07:37:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/476158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterflycell/pseuds/butterflycell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mike quite clearly had plans for his evening that didn't involve spending two hours in a car with Harvey before enduring a night in Atlantic City with the knowledge that he'd been expected at work the next morning. As it turns out, Harvey's not the worst person to take a car trip with in the history of forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Tuxedo Situation

**Author's Note:**

> AKA: The missing scene from 'All In' which culminates, pretty obviously, with Harvey doing up Mike's bow tie for him and the fact that they're completely comfortable invading each other's personal space. 
> 
> I would also like to say now that, when writing the vast majority of this fic, I was assuming they were in Harvey's usual town car (even though it turns out they were in a limo) - so please bear that in mind whilst reading!
> 
> also, a massive thanks to luvinjrandsmoke and dietpunkfics for cheering this one on \o/
> 
> \--

Mike hadn't seen an episode of Different Strokes in an _age_. He was only watching it whilst he waited for his food to be delivered, but still. Wow.  
  
He took a sip of beer, moments before someone pounded on the door. It wasn't the delivery guy – he'd only got off the phone a couple of minutes ago – and he really didn't want to talk to anyone else right then. “I'm not here!”  
  
The banging carried on and it sounded like it wasn't going to stop without a fight. He bit back a noise of irritation and hauled himself to his feet.  
  
“God, what--” He swung the door open, only to find himself faced with Harvey. In a tux. Smirking. “ _What_ are you doing here?”  
  
“Are you watching Different Strokes?” He walked straight in, all smug superiority. Mike didn't even have time to appreciate the cut of the outfit before he was put onto the defensive – just like every single other time Harvey turned up somewhere out of the blue.  
  
“Uhh, ye- it was the touching story of a couple of orphans, so--” He stammered, trying to stop his mouth from getting too far ahead while he tried to remember whether anything potentially disastrous was lying around the place.  
  
“Don't.” Harvey cut him off, glancing around the room. “It's a nice building. How long ago was it condemned?”  
  
“Oh great, so did you come all the way over here just to criticise where I live or...?” He caught sight of the pipe sitting on his bookshelf and mentally braced himself for a possible reaming while his eyes was still scouting out various other objects laying around.  
  
“That's a side benefit.” And, _naturally_ , that was the first object that Harvey homed in on. “You've _got_ to be kidding me.”  
  
“What? Uh, that's sentimental value,” He caught the pipe as Harvey tossed it in his direction, trying to cover his tracks a little. Somewhere in the back of his head, he recognised that Harvey believed him and he filed the thought away for later use, “So, I'll just put that away...”  
  
“Nice panda.” Yes, right, Harvey had already lost interest in the weed – now to insult everything else he owned.  
  
“Thank you. Grandmother, Christmas thing.” He watched Harvey turn back to him, seemingly done for the moment and getting his reason for being there. Mike mentally congratulated himself for not letting the sudden change in conversation catch him off guard like it had when he'd first started working for him. It was a pretty disorientating habit.    
  
“Get your tux on, we've got a situation.” Harvey slid his hands in his pockets and it struck Mike that, aside for the formal wear, Harvey didn't look all that out of place in his dingy little apartment. He was pretty sure there was a story behind that, somewhere.  
  
“Uh, a situation that requires a tux. Where- where's this tuxedo situation?” His mind was already racing the possibilities, none of them particularly appealing to him.  
  
“Atlantic City. Can you get dressed now?” Harvey was keeping his cards close to his chest and Mike got the feeling that there was more than just a client waiting for them in New Jersey, particularly with the way Harvey had been acting since Donna left.  
  
“Yeah, I could,” He ran a hand through his hair, already knowing exactly how Harvey would react.  
  
“But?” Harvey raised an eyebrow.  
  
“I don't have a tux.” Harvey rolled his eyes, looking away with an air of snobbish disdain. “I'm not Bruce Wayne!”  
  
“Don't I know it.” He shook his head and met Mike's eyes for a long moment. Mike bit back a smirk and Harvey's irritation broke into a good natured shake of the head. Part of Mike wanted to make some sort of sex joke, but his rational head was telling him that a couple of months of casual hook-ups didn't qualify him for teasing one of the most powerful lawyers in the city about his penchant for all things sci-fi. “Fine. You showered since you got home?”  
  
“Yeah, a couple of hours ago.” Mike rubbed at his eyes. He heard the brief creaking of floorboards and when he pulled his hand away, Harvey was standing in front of him, head cocked slightly to one side, a smirk pulling at the side of his mouth. He was very, _very_ close and Mike's heart was beating just a little too quickly - the way it always seemed to do when Harvey was involved.  
  
“Well then, you can get changed in the car.” Harvey grinned and brushed past him, heading towards the door. “Oh, and don't forget your shoes. Black.”  
  
Mike let out a breath that he hadn't realised he was holding and rubbed at the spot over his chest where his heart was settling back into a more regular pace. He wheeled around and snagged his phone and wallet from the table before stuffing them in his shoulder bag and grabbing his shoes from the closet, joining Harvey by the door. Harvey's hand settled briefly at the small of his back, pushing him the extra way out of the apartment and into the hall. Then he was pulling the door closed and leading the way out of the building.  
  
“What would've happened if I was doing something tonight?” Mike asked, catching up with Harvey and falling into step alongside him.  
  
“Oh, I'm sorry, did I interrupt your plans with your favourite movie and a take-out?” He said, the usual amount of amused derision there. Mike paused, mid step.  
  
“Actually, yes.” Harvey stopped a few steps ahead and turned around, incredulous. As he stared, his expression softened, just for a moment. Then he was heading back down the corridor.  
  
“You'll have to take a rain-check of the cookie-dough, Juliet.” He replied, Mike jogging slightly to catch back up with him.  
  
“I prefer fudge brownie.” He said as he caught up, following him down the stairs. Harvey shot him a side look.  
  
“Of course you do.” He rolled his eyes and Mike grinned.  
  
When they got outside, Ray greeted them both and Mike let himself be shoved into the car before a garment bag was thrown in after him. Harvey got into the other side and before he really understood what was happening, Ray was pulling away.  
  
“Can we get a bit of jazz, Ray?” Music started to filter back through the car and Harvey settled back, staring out the window. Mike studied the garment bag on his lap and Harvey, glancing between the two. Harvey sighed, a little exasperated, after a few minutes. “What?”  
  
“Why couldn't I get changed at home?” Mike asked, twisting in his seat to glare at Harvey, who only turned his head with a smile.  
  
“Aw, rookie - performance anxiety?” He smirked. Mike glowered just a little.  
  
“You know, if you wanted me to strip for you, all you had to do was ask.” Harvey grinned and looked back out of the window. Mike thought for a moment, debated his options.  
  
He was tired, it was the middle of the week and all he really wanted to do was have some dinner and watch Heat for maybe the hundredth time. He'd ordered in Chinese and everything. The delivery guy was probably cussing his door out round about now. He'd be getting hell off the neighbours for that one. He stared out of the window, chin propped on a fist as the streets of Brooklyn started to peter out slightly.  
  
He settled in, head falling back against the seat as he closed his eyes. The town car really was pretty comfortable. He could easily envisage himself getting a nap on the way to and from work each day if he could afford to travel in something like this - the extra sleep would really help keep him alert. He felt a foot knock against his and he opened his eyes again, twisting his head slightly to look at Harvey. He was watching him pointedly.  
  
“What? Atlantic City is over two hours away.” Mike sat up a little as Harvey raised an eyebrow. Mike huffed and sat up fully, unbuckling his seat belt. “Okay, fine. _Fine_.”  
  
He grumbled as he leant down and tugged his sneakers off, tossing them into the foot well. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Harvey lean forwards and ask Ray to put up the partition. As the divider slid up, the music made itself just a little louder and Mike narrowed his eyes at Harvey. For his part, Harvey was doing his best to act as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Mike didn't bother pointing out that the previous times he'd been forced to change shirts in the car, he didn't get the honour of the partition.    
  
Mike shook his head slightly and reached up and over his head to tug his t-shirt off by the back, managing to fold his arms through it in a way that didn't make his elbows collide painfully with any part of the car interior.  
  
“You know,” He began, tugging his head free of his t-shirt and balling it up, “I meant what I said about the stripping.”  
  
“Not that I don't appreciate the offer,” Harvey said, a hand moving to lie on the base of Mike's back. He looked over his shoulder, Harvey's expression still blank. “But I much prefer undressing you myself.”  
  
Mike turned properly, leaning close and getting a leg over Harvey's lap. He settled in close, leaning forwards until their mouths were almost touching, but not quite. Harvey's other hand had settled on his hip, squeezing gently.  
  
“Is this the part when you try to make me feel like a low rate rent boy?” He asked with a smile. Harvey tilted his chin up slightly, their noses brushing slightly. The hand on his back slid down and into the waist of his jeans.  
  
“I'd _never_ hire a rent boy.” Harvey said in a low voice, a grin spreading across his face.  
  
“Did I say 'rent boy'? I meant escort - it'll be six-hundred for the car trip, another thousand for the night.” Mike dragged his teeth gently along Harvey's jaw. He chuckled, mixing with a groan and Mike shifted in his lap, their hips pressing together. He leaned in and spoke in a breathy whisper against Harvey's ear, “I could be _so_ slutty for you, baby.”  
  
Harvey gripped his chin and jerked him sharply to meet his eyes, an amused but stern look on his face. “Don't ever call me 'baby'.”  
  
“I was hoping you'd say that.” Mike smirked and closed the gap between them, kissing Harvey slowly, teeth teasing at his lower lip. Harvey's hand slid down to his waist, both hands meeting to pop the button of his jeans.  
  
The kiss became messy, both of them taking their time and vying for control. Mike began to unbutton the crisp dress shirt Harvey was wearing, pressing his advantage as he moaned gently against his mouth, the sound mostly covered by the sleazy jazz still filtering back. Mike pushed the material apart, smiling when he felt skin, not cotton under his fingers. He ghosted his fingers across Harvey's stomach and felt the muscles underneath clench and the grip of his hips tighten.  
  
“Hang on,” Mike broke the kiss, pushing himself far enough away that he could resist being pulled back in, “Atlantic City is _two hours_ away.”  
  
“Didn't we already cover this?” Harvey relaxed back into his seat, head tilting to one side. The movement only served to bring attention back to the fact that he looked very much like a male model on the glossy pages of GQ. Harvey's hands had moved down, holding possessively onto Mike's thighs.  
  
“Two hours is a lot of time. I could get the Ripton  & Klein financials proofed.” Mike snapped his fingers as if he'd had a brilliant and made to get off Harvey's lap and was half way into his seat when Harvey caught him around the waist and used his momentum to pin him down across the seats, straddling him. Harvey's hands had a grip on Mike's upper arms, but his hands were free to claim a grip on Harvey's thighs.  
  
“You're a little punk, you know that?” Harvey growled, face only an inch or so from Mike's. Mike grinned and leant up to nudge their noses together. Harvey kissed him, _hard_ , biting at his bottom lip and pressing his tongue in as Mike gasped at the pain - but then he was returning it in kind, fingers biting into Harvey's skin and hips moving of their own accord.  
  
He felt Harvey's grip on his arms loosen, hands moving up to his shoulders, fingers brushing his collar bones before moving down and pressing heavily on his chest. He should've seen it coming, really, but when Harvey broke the kiss and pushed himself up, Mike was left gasping and straining for the contact back. Harvey just sat there, a shit-eating grin plastered across his face as Mike finally gave up, head thudding back against the car seat with a growl of protest.  
  
“Still feel like doing those financials?” Harvey asked evenly. Mike fixed him with a look, doing his best to stay surly, but Harvey's hands were moving down his sides, fingers pressing into the gaps between his ribs. His pulse was betraying him, to say nothing of the blood starting to pool in his groin. He relinquished his grip on Harvey's thighs and pushed himself up onto his elbows.  
  
“Isn't your tux getting wrinkled?” He asked, feigning concern. Harvey raised an eyebrow and glanced down at himself. He sat up, moving his hands form Mike's chest and rubbing at his mouth slowly.  
  
“Sadly, I think you're right.” Harvey shot him an apologetic look and turned, pulling Mike's legs from off the seat and collapsing back into it. He started to button his shirt back up and Mike made a noise of protest. Harvey silenced him with a sideways look.  
  
Mike sat up a little, still propped on his elbows. He folded his legs up, debating where to put himself. After a moment, he pressed his feet firmly to Harvey's thigh, digging his heels in slightly. Harvey paused, two buttons re-done, before moving a hand to his foot. Mike flexed under the touch and Harvey pressed his fingertips in, pushed them higher and rocked the pressure back. The slow, tantalising pace set Mike's pulse into overdrive, his breathing picking up but knotts. By the time Harvey's hand was at his knee, Mike was fully prepared to jump him and damn the consequences.  
  
He pressed a hand to his stomach, sliding down to his open jeans. A noise from Harvey made him stop and he looked up. Harvey's eyes were blown, a dangerous smile on his face and Mike couldn't quite look away. The feel of fingertips sliding down the inside of his thigh sent a spike of pleasure to his now painfully hard cock and barely a moment after it hit, Harvey's hand was pressed to him, heel firm and hot.  
  
Mike was panting and he could only take a couple of minutes of the not-so-gentle massaging before it was too much and he struggled his way back into Harvey's lap, kissing him with little to no restraint. Harvey's hands on his back were pulling him closer and Mike kissed him back with equal ferocity, hips grinding together. He was gratified to find Harvey in the same state as himself.  
  
He pulled their chests apart slightly, just long enough to undo the buttons again and pull open his pants. He pushed a hand in and curled his fingers around Harvey's cock. Harvey groaned into his mouth and Mike swallowed it down. He gripped tighter and felt Harvey's hips stutter upwards, trying to gain friction. He felt fingernails bite into his back, raking down a couple of inches.  
  
“T-shirt.” Harvey's voice was rough as he broke away momentarily, panting against Mike's ear. He frowned slightly, pulling his hand free and pushing himself up a little. Harvey encouraged him up onto his knees and worked his jeans and boxers down his hips a little. “Mike, get your t-shirt.”  
  
Mike twisted round and groped for the top lying in the footwell, Harvey pulling him forcibly back into place, fingers holding tight to his ass. He pressed himself closer as Harvey pulled him free of his boxers and lined their cocks up. He wrapped his hand around them and squeezed, making Mike bite down on his lip and drop his head forwards.  
  
“Michael.” He snapped his eyes open, staring at Harvey and letting a smile grow at the look on his face. He leant in, brought his free hand up to rest on Harvey's throat and kissed him again. It was slow, messy and hot as Harvey started to move his hand between them, pre-come lubricating the movements just enough that each slide of his palm, each twist and pulse of his fingers made something liquid coil in Mike's stomach.  
  
He slid his hand round to the back of Harvey's head, twisting in his hair and tugging him slightly to kiss him deeper, tongues delving as hips started to buck of their own accord, to thrust and chase the pleasure Harvey was bringing them both. Mike could feel Harvey's free hand sliding down over his ass again, fingers biting into muscle and pulling their hips closer together.  
  
Mike was so close, desperate for his orgasm to hit but not willing to give up the intimacy, not yet. He broke the kiss with a gasp and pulled Harvey's head further to one side, baring his neck. He heard Harvey groan as he caught the soft skin of his shoulder between lips and teeth. He forced his hips back into his control and built up a rhythm, finding himself rewarded by the sounds of Harvey coming undone.  
  
He pulled his t-shirt across them and held it loosely, fingers meeting Harvey's through the material as the speed of the movement picked up. He let go of his grip on Harvey's hair and pressed a kiss below his ear, sucking on the lobe for a moment before kissing him again, letting Harvey claim him and take-control.  
  
In a matter of moments, Mike was coming, his cry muffled by Harvey's mouth. His whole body seized, hips stuttering and jerking as he rode it out – only for Harvey to follow soon after with a low moan that seemed to rid him of every ounce of tension in his body.  
  
Mike let his head fall against Harvey's shoulder as he basked in the afterglow. He took his time getting his breath back, carefully pulling his damp t-shirt away from them and wiping up most of the mess. Harvey wiped his hand off before Mike leaned sideways to fumble through his bag. Harvey supported him round the waist, helping to pull him upright again. Mike tried to focus on pulling several wet-wipes free from the packet he'd retrieved. He was aware, for the first time since Harvey had pinned him down, that the music was still filtering through the speakers. He smiled as he took Harvey's hand and wiped it clean. As he set to work on the rest of the mess, Harvey's hands settled low on his hips. He worked slowly, taking care to clean the last of the evidence before tucking them both away. He slowly did up Harvey's shirt to the collar before fastening his pants and sitting back.  
  
“Wet-wipes?” Harvey asked once he'd got his breath back, smirking and breaking the easy silence as he reached up to finished his collar and start on his bowtie.  
  
“Something I learnt in my third week.” Mike smiled and rubbed at the back of his neck. Harvey's smrik grew into a grin and Mike raised his eyebrows. “If you're about to take the piss, I would like to put forward the idea of turning up at a client meeting with the two of us smelling like we'd _just_ spent two hours in a car having sex with each other.”  
  
Harvey laughed a little at that and Mike twisted off him, slumping back into the free seat and closing his eyes. He had to admit that the idea of turning up somewhere looking very clearly like he'd just been thoroughly fucked by Harvey Specter was not exactly the worst thing in the world -but there was a time and a place for that, and he had a feeling that this 'tuxedo situation' wasn't it.  
  
Harvey reached over and laid a hand on his stomach, prompting Mike to look up and over at him. There was a soft expression on his face, not one Mike saw all that often and mostly only in the last month or so. In everything that had happened, he didn't think now was the appropriate time to bring it up. Mike pushed himself up and Harvey let his hand fall back to his side. He began to wriggle out of his jeans, shaking his head slightly at the fact that it took a great deal more energy than usual and took almost twice as long. He peeled them off his legs, aware of Harvey watching him with a smirk, no doubt thinking he'd been proven right about the idiocy of skinny jeans. Leaning forwards, he began to rummage through his bag again.  
  
“What else do you keep in there?” Harvey asked, arm propped against the window and his head resting in his hand.  
  
“Uhh, I've got a toothbrush, toothpaste, a razor and a couple of packs of shaving gel, spare boxers and... twenty bucks.” He glanced over his shoulder to find a look of surprise on Harvey's face. “What?”  
  
“Nothing, I just didn't think you had that kind of presence of mind.” Mike rolled his eyes, making Harvey smile.  
  
“Whilst I try not to take your advice as a general rule, it turns out that supplies like this make being an associate a hell of a lot easier.” Mike looked away as Harvey started to grin and inspected the garment bag at his feet. He felt Harvey press a finger to his spine and trace a couple of vertebrae, sending a shiver through him. One day soon, he would lose himself to Harvey completely.  
  
He straightened up and pulled the garment bag with him, zipping it open and pulling out the pants. He tried not to think too hard about how well they fitted him as he pulled them on and tried not to wonder how much Harvey had spent in the process. He went for the shirt, but Harvey reached over and pulled it from his hands. He shook it out, holding it open.  
  
Mike fixed Harvey with a look for a moment, but got only a calm, expectant look in return. Stifling a sigh at the recognition of Harvey's armour having fallen back into place, he turned away and let Harvey help him guide his arms into the sleeves. As he started to button it up, he found work starting to close back in on him. Enclosed in crisp, unyielding clothes, it was impossible to forget that this was just a bubble in a world of business.  
  
He sighed slightly as he tucked his shirt in and fastened his pants, pulling the tux jacket on to seal the deal. He was very much an Associate again now.  
  
“The bow-tie's in the inside pocket.” Harvey said as Mike went to look back in the garment bag.  
  
“Thanks.” He nodded and, as a last thought, bundled the ruined t-shirt and used wipes into a ball, wrapped it in his jeans and slid the lot into his bag. He fished out his phone, wallet and keys to finish the transition and pulled out the tie. “How much longer have we got?”  
  
“About an hour.” Mike slid the tie round his neck, but left it open. He nodded in reply and let his head fall back. An hour in a car with Harvey who seemed very much against the idea of easy conversation. An hour before getting to Atlantic City and most likely spending the rest of the night making sure Harvey didn't self-destruct at some point – for as much as Harvey put across the impression that he was his normal self, it didn't take a genius to realise he was anything but.  
  
The thought reminded him of just how tired he'd been when he'd placed his order at the take-out and how much he'd just wanted to claw back as much rest as possible before work the next day. He chanced another look at Harvey, who was staring out the window, absorbed in the slow jazz moving between them.  
  
It was easy to fall asleep and let him drift off for a while. Soft brass melodies carried him off easily.  
  
\--  
  
He awoke with a start as something hit him just below the shoulder. Jerking upright and rubbing at his arm. “Hey!”  
  
“Rise and shine, rookie.” Harvey said as he sat up, rubbing at his eyes. He glowered out the window as he tried to orientate himself. He caught sight of a road sign. They were almost there. As he glanced around, he realised the partition was down and he caught Ray's eye in the mirror. He smiled slightly before looking back out at the road. Mike looked away, hiding his own smile before straightening up and tugging at the ends of his tie. To business then. He decided the ease them back into 'work mode'.  
  
“You just have an extra tux for the random occasion?” He broke the silence, starting to fold the tie blindly. Harvey glanced over.  
  
“Something told me you'd need it – and by 'something', I mean 'common sense', and by 'need it', I mean 'you're an idiot'.” The banter was back in it's rightful place. Mike laughed slightly.  
  
“Ha-ha. So can I ask why we are going to Atlantic City instead of just messengering these contracts?” He tried to glance down at the tie, knowing already that this was going to be a futile effort. He could barely tie one straight in the mirror.  
  
“No.” _Naturally_.  
  
“Now, I'm sensing a little hostility,” Mike looked over, reasoning that now would be the perfect time to remind Harvey that he wasn't fooling anyone, “and you know what I think? I think you're still stung about Donna, you see a chance to blow off some steam, and you need a wingman.”  
  
“Easy, Dr Phil.” Harvey replied in his usual manner, but Mike didn't fail to catch the hardening of his expression at the mention of Donna's name. He pulled his tie through the last loop, tightening the knot. “We're here.”  
  
Mike was too focussed on letting go of his tie without it imploding to really jump on the way Harvey changed the subject. He filed the knowledge away for later analysis and instead of readying himself to get out of the car, he tried to lighten the situation by pointing out his half-assed attempt at neck-wear.  
  
“There. How's that?” He turned to Harvey with a dead pan expression. Harvey was silent for a long moment before looking away and out of the window. “What? Did I do it wrong?”  
  
After a long moment, Harvey turned back round and fixed him with a pointed look. Mike feigned innocence as Harvey rolled his eyes and leaned forwards, reaching up to pull the tie free and proceed to tie it perfectly, first time. It was a little snug, but Mike suspected that was deliberate.  
  
Before Harvey could pull away, Mike kissed him quickly. It was just a short brush of lips, but as Harvey froze, Mike wondered if he'd pushed a little too far too soon after reminding him that he where his weak point was at the moment. But then Harvey hooked a hand round his neck and pulled him in for a hot, hard kiss that was just a little angry, but a whole lot more possessive. Mike didn't even protest as he pulled away with a sharp bite to his lip.  
  
Harvey sat back, trying to suppress a smile as Mike tried to collect himself. He rubbed absently at his chest, willing his heart to slow back down, before reaching up to smooth his hair back into some semblance of order. He finished with moments to spare.  
  
“Thanks, Ray. Keep an eye on your next pay-check.” Harvey sat forwards as Ray pulled up outside a casino.  
  
“No problem, sir.” Ray turned in his seat with an easy smile. Harvey held out a credit card that looked suspiciously like his personal one.  
  
“Go get yourself something good for dinner and a nice hotel. I'll give you a call in the morning, sometime after seven.” Ray plucked the card from him and shot him a mock salute.  
  
A moment or two later, the doors were being pulled open and Mike climbed out, glancing up at the name of the place and feeling his heart sink. Fucking typical. Of all the casinos in all the world, it had to be _this_ one. He internalised the urge to smash his face into his hand and was vaguely aware of Harvey saying something massively condescending to him.  
  
“You didn't tell me you were bringing me here.” Mike couldn't quite drag his eyes away from the glowing sign above the door.  
  
“And that's a problem, how?” Harvey stopped, turning to face him.  
  
“I'm sort of... _banned_ from here?” He slid his hands into his pockets and looked at Harvey. He was met with a slightly incredulous expression and suddenly they were focussing on Mike being a screw up.  
  
The residual tension from the end of the car ride vanished as Mike plunged into an explanation. Harvey's patronising remarks were a small price for getting them both back in the game.


End file.
